


sad eyes

by sodun



Series: rarl oneshots [4]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, Cuddling, Insomnia, Just Friends, Nightmares, PTSD, carl takes care of ron, domestic abuse, its cute i swear, just totally platonic hand holding and cuddling, no actual relationships here, rlly cuddly friends tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:17:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6952579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodun/pseuds/sodun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carl is drawn to the boy whose smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sad eyes

**Author's Note:**

> i was gonna post an AU where they get high and fuk but i cant figure out how to end it so heres this its kind of cute
> 
> not proof read like usual & probably not very good
> 
> all comments are loved and read and appreciated even tho this awkward potato doesnt respond

Carl never meant to get close to Ron Anderson.

When he first moved to Alexandria, Carl didn't think there would be much for him. A house, electricity, running water, a warm bed, sure, but he felt like he would never consider it his home. It didn't feel right to settle into a place without Lori. The last time he had a _home_ was with her. It was Carl and Lori and Rick and that was how it always was, how it had been his entire life. Now, it was Carl and Rick and his baby sister Judith and Michonne and Glenn and Maggie and the rest of his new family, but it didn't feel like home without his mom. 

When Carl was first introduce to the other teenagers of his new community, he was so surprised by how they'd been living. Video games and comic books? How long had it been since Carl had last used a TV, a year? Two? These kids had no idea what it was like out there. How come Carl was the one who had to fight to survive? Why was he surviving while they were just here, existing? Living life like nothing had changed?

Carl figured he shouldn't be angry. It's not their fault. It's nobodies fault, really. Except maybe Shane's, because he was the one who took them to the campsite rather than trying to find a place like Alexandria. Maybe, had they found somewhere like Alexandria in the first place, or if the CDC wasn't the shitshow it was, Lori would still be alive.

Carl tried to be nice to them, but it was hard to make friends again. Sophia was his last true friend. There were other kids his age at the prison, but he never felt any connection to them. Carl didn't see this place as permanent, because _nothing_ is permanent anymore. Nothing can be permanent. The CDC was secure, but they lost that. The prison was strong, but not strong enough. Terminus could have been just what they need, if it wasn't full of cannibals. Why should he think Alexandria would be any different? The walls would come down or they'd been attacked again and these people, these sheltered people would fall because they don't know how to survive. So, why try? Getting close to people was useless. It always ended in pain and sadness.

There were three others his age in Alexandria. Ron and Mikey and Enid. Ron was nice. So was Mikey. Enid wasn't. Carl liked that about her. He thought she knew how life was, she knew not to let people in. This was proven wrong when he found out that she was dating Ron. Of course she was with one of them- she's the only teenage girl there. Mikey seemed to like her, but Enid always dismissed him. Mikey was really friendly, a little awkward, but not in a way that was weird or off-putting. 

Then there was Ron. He was the oldest of them all, though he wasn't as mature as Enid. Carl liked Ron's smile. It looked genuine, welcoming, _friendly_. Carl noticed it didn't reach his eyes.

Carl liked the boy with the bright smile and sad eyes. He wanted to know him better. He wanted to know why he was so sad. Carl figured he'd lost people. Ron must've had other family than his mom, dad and brother. While he didn't know much about the Andersons', he did know that it was just them. There were no grandparents, no aunts and uncles, no cousins. Carl knew how that felt. It would make sense if that was why Ron was sad.

Then, one day, Ron came outside sporting a dark purple bruise on his jaw. 

At first, Carl thought maybe he and Mikey had gotten into a fight. Or he was messing around with Enid or Sam and got hurt somehow. No, that was definitely the result of an uppercut to his jaw. That wasn't an accident, it was intentional.

Carl noticed the way Ron tensed up when he asked about the bruise. His shoulders went rigid and he avoided Carl's eyes. With a shrug, Ron told Carl he just fell down some stairs and not to worry. Carl didn't believe him, but he didn't push it.

Carl kept this to himself for the most part. It briefly came up in conversation with Carol, when she mentioned that Sam talked about Pete with a certain fear in his eyes. The teen nodded, saying he noticed something similar with Ron. That was the end of it. 

Every now and then, Carl would notice Ron had another bruise, or he cradled his stomach when he walked, or his eyes just looked a little sadder than usual. Carl wanted to help but he didn't know how to. He couldn't just ask him, "is your dad beating you?". No, that wouldn't go over well. And even if he _did_ , what would he do with that information? Send his dad to deal with Pete? Have Ron move in with him? Kick Pete out of Alexandria? The truth was, Carl couldn't do anything to help him. That hurt Carl more than it should've.

Most nights, Carl would sneak out of his house after everyone else fell asleep and climb onto his roof. He could see all of Alexandria from there, and on clear nights he loved to look at the stars. It was his favorite place to go and think, and it was best enjoyed at night, when there would be no interruptions. Sleeping wasn't something Carl was good at. Every time he closed his eyes he relived memories of pain and suffering. If he could keep his eyes shut long enough to fall asleep, he was awakened by nightmares that often left him in tears. So, he spent most nights on the roof, stargazing and remembering his mom and Dale and Shane and Sophia and Herschel and Tyreese and Beth and Noah and Amy and Andrea and T-Dog and even Merle. He did his best to only remember the good memories of these people.

One night, a loud thud pulled Carl out of his thoughts. He couldn't exactly pinpoint where it came from, but it didn't sound too far away. His eyes scanned over the community, unable to see much in the dark but trying to find something to let him know what happened. When he did, he wasn't sure if he was surprised or afraid.

He spotted Ron, shrugging a zippered hoodie onto his shoulders as he speed-walked away from his house. Every now and then, he threw a glance over his shoulder, as if to make sure he wasn't being followed. 

Carl's body seemed to react before his mind. He slid back into his window, slipped his boots onto his feet and slowly made his way downstairs. Abraham was asleep on the couch, and Carl thanked his lucky stars that it him and not someone like Daryl, who would wake up to the sound of a pin dropping. He crept over to the front door, doing his best to open and close it without making a sound. 

Once he was outside, Carl realized Ron could have gone in any direction by then. He could've gone back inside. However, Carl didn't think that someone leaving the house in such a hurry would just go back a few minutes later. So, he simply started wandering the darkened streets, watching and listening carefully for any sings of Ron.

Carl found him sitting against a tree about 5 minutes from his house. The boy was hugging his knees to his chest, his forehead leaned against his thighs. Ron's entire body was trembling, and Carl didn't think it was because of the cold.

"Ron?" Carl whispered, trying his best not to startle the other teen. 

Slowly, Ron lifted his head just enough to see where the voice came from. "Carl?"

"Hey." Smiling softly, Carl sat next to his friend. "What are you doing out here?"

There it was. Ron tensed, his eyes cast downward as he tugged on the cuffs of his sweater sleeves. 

"Got into a fight with my dad," He mumbled, shrugging. "No big deal. Just had to get out of the house."

"Why were you fighting?"

Ron chewed on his lip, glancing up to meet Carl's eyes. It was then that Carl noticed the angry red handprint on Ron's face.

"My dad hit my mom. I tried to stop him. He hit me. Pushed me against the wall, told me to learn some respect or some shit. I just waited till he let go to run out of the house." Admitted Ron. His voice was free of emotion, but his eyes weren't. Sadness, anger and fear swam in those pools of deep blue, tears bubbling up behind his eyelashes.

"I'm sorry. You don't deserve that." Carl said easily. He placed his hand on Ron's shoulder hesitantly; the boy relaxed under his touched.

"My mom doesn't deserve it either. Neither does Sam. When the world ended, why couldn't alcohol go down with it? Why'd we have to run out of shit like Oreos instead?" Mumbled Ron, tipping his head back to look at the stars.

Carl chuckled before mimicking Ron's actions. "Sky's pretty tonight, huh?"

Ron smiled slightly, humming in agreement. Glancing over at Carl, he couldn't help but notice how _adorable_ the kid looked, gazing up at the stars with so much admiration and wonder. Carl felt Ron's eyes on him, but he decided against teasing him about it. 

"I love looking at the stars. When I was little, my mom told me that the stars that shine the brightest are people watching over you," Carl mused, a sad smile spreading across his face at the memory. "I think one of those stars is her. Maybe that's stupid, I don't know. It's comforting, though."

"It's not stupid. I like it." Ron whispered, hesitantly scooting closer to Carl and resting his head on his friend's shoulder.

Carl wasn't expecting it, but he wasn't mad about it either. He rested his hand on top of Ron's, who flipped his hand over and laced their fingers together. Carl noticed that while Ron's hands were a bit smaller than his own, they seemed to fit together perfectly.

"As much as I want to, I don't think we can sit out here all night."

Ron pouted. "Why not?" He mumbled, sleepiness seeping into his voice.

Carl contemplated it for a moment, before shrugging gently. "Good question. But if we're gonna sleep out here, we need blankets. It's cold. We can sneak into my house and grab some if you want."

"No," Ron sighed, shaking his head. "You don't have to. I'll be fine, I just.. Don't wanna go back home. But I can't expect you to come be a hobo with me." The teen chuckled, sitting up straight but not pulling his hand away. 

"Maybe I want to." Carl chuckled, nudging Ron with his shoulder. "Do you wanna come with me to grab a few blankets, or do you wanna wait here? It'll just take a few minutes."

"I think I'll wait here," Ron said absently, "If you decide not to come back I won't be offended."

"I'll come back," Carl promised, stand up and pulling his hand away before heading back towards his house.

He almost managed to get in, get blankets and pillow and leave without getting caught. Of course, Maggie had to wake up while he was sneaking back down the stairs. 

"What are you doing with all that?" She asked from the top of the staircase, startling Carl.

"Jesus," He muttered, continuing down the stairs. "Outside. Ron.. Ron's having a rough night. I don't want him to be alone right now, and he doesn't want to go home."

Maggie nodded, giving the boy an understanding smile. "Alright. Try not to get those too dirty, Carol won't be too happy if she has to wash them again. Is this supposed to our little secret, or can I tell your dad where you are if he asks?"

"You can tell him. I might be back before he wakes up though, I'm not sure. Do you know when Pete is on patrol?"

"I think he's taking first shift, around 7 AM. He's not too good to Ron, is he?" Maggie questioned, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Yeah. Listen, I gotta get back to Ron, so.. I'll see you tomorrow. Or, today, I guess," Carl mumbled, acknowledging that it must be early morning by now.

"Alright. Take care of him, he's a good kid. Be safe," With that, Maggie returned to the room she shared with Glenn, and Carl successfully snuck out of the house without waking anyone else up.

Once he got to the tree, he saw that Ron was still sitting there. "Well Grimes, I guess you're a man of your word." Ron said, smiling as Carl set everything down.

"I am," Carl chuckled, spreading out one of the blankets and putting down a pillow before lying down.

He patted the spot next to him, inviting Ron to come lay next to him. He did.

"I'm sorry things are so bad for you right now," Carl whispered, turning on his side to face Ron as he pulled the blanket up and drape it over them.

"Yeah, me too," Ron sighed, "Things are bad for everyone though, right? Maybe I just need to toughen up."

"Ron, shut up. You have every right to be upset and hurting right now, okay?" 

Ron nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Okay."

Carl gave him a small smile before turning onto his back. The two fell into a silence that wasn't uncomfortable, but they could still feel the tension. They stayed this way, side by side with their shoulders pressed together, until Ron shuffled just a tiny bit closer. He rested his head on Carl's just, wrapping an arm around the smaller boy's stomach.

"Is this okay?" Ron whispered, biting his lip. "I'm just, um, cold."

Carl grinned, because Ron was definitely a bad liar. "It's okay." He whispered back, wrapping his arm around the boy's shoulders and drawing light circles on his ribcage.

Ron hummed, closing his eyes. The two stayed like this, both dosing off much faster than expect. Ron felt safer lying like this, on the ground in Carl's arms, than he did in his own bed. Carl found that there was less death in his nightmares.

When they awoke at the crack of dawn, Carl noticed that Ron's sleepy smile met his eyes.


End file.
